by Penny Jordan
And just because he’d paid her a compliment, just because he had for a second looked at her mouth as though... She swallowed hard. As though what? As though he wondered how she would taste...how her lips would feel beneath his...how—
Stop it, stop it! she warned herself despairingly. What was happening to her? Why were her own emotions turning traitor on her like this?
The Land Rover stopped, and she realised with a start that they had reached the site. She made to open the door and get out, but Matthew stopped her.
‘It’s a bit muddy underfoot. You might slip. Hang on a sec and I’ll help you down.’
She was trembling long before he opened the door and reached inside to place his hands either side of her waist and swing her down on to the small, firm patch of ground at his feet.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘ARE you all right?’
Matt’s voice was curt, angry almost. She could feel the hot wave of colour burning up under her own skin as she responded equally briefly in the affirmative.
She knew that he must be regretting having asked her to come with him. What an idiotic thing for her to do. Hadn’t she told herself over and over again that, if he hadn’t recognised her before he was hardly likely to do so now, unless she gave him cause to do so? And yet here she was, behaving in a way that was bound to make him wonder what was wrong with her.
Ian Jackson had seen them and started walking towards them, defiant arrogance in the look he gave Matthew before stopping in front of him. The look he gave Nicola made her clench her muscles and look away from him.
She always felt uncomfortable, embarrassed and somehow guilty when she was confronted by overt male sexual appraisal, especially when it was accompanied by the kind of insulting, unspoken attitude typified by men like Ian Jackson. The way he looked at her made her want to turn and run away from him. It made her feel threatened and vulnerable, and in some way as though something about her, something she had done, was responsible for his attitude towards her...like a rape victim believing that in some way she herself had encouraged her attacker without knowing how she might have done so. Nicola knew that this fear was directly attributable to the night she had met Matthew for the first time, and that it had its roots in her own reckless behaviour on that occasion.
As she looked away from Ian, fixing her gaze on some point beyond him, she was astonished when Matthew moved towards her, almost coming to stand between Ian and herself, as though he sensed what she was feeling and wanted to reassure her, to protect her...
She was fantasising again, she derided herself, allowing emotions she had no right to feel take hold of her.
The sharp intensity of her awareness of Matt confused and alarmed her. When she moved away, instinctively trying to distance herself not just physically from him, but mentally from her own emotional reaction to him, he turned his head and looked at her.
It was only a brief glance—not a glance which she would ever have described as sexual or intimidating—and yet oddly it made her feel very much aware of herself as a woman and of him as a man.
This was getting ridiculous, she told herself shakily as she deliberately broke eye-contact with him. She was letting the past influence and overwhelm her judgement.
Matthew was speaking to Ian Jackson, telling him coolly and clinically about the complaints he had received.
Truculently Ian started to defend himself, his defence carrying veiled references to his influence over the men and the fact that certain ‘perks’ were a time-honoured tradition of the job.
Matt refused to give way, and Nicola could only admire the firmness with which he handled the situation.
When they eventually left the site, the foreman had been left in no doubt as to who was now in charge of the company, and of the manner in which Matt expected his employees to carry out their work.
On their way back to the Land Rover they had to walk past several of the men. Instinctively Nicola made a small detour to avoid coming too physically close to them.
It was only when she had circumvented them that she realised that Matt was watching her rather oddly. She could feel herself flushing.
It was an ingrained habit now, this need she had to keep as much physical distance between herself and the male sex—but not because she feared she might be approached or attacked. No, the reason for her behaviour had its roots in the night she met Matthew and the self-disgust which had been born in her then...a disgust which had been reinforced by Jonathon’s sneeringly derogatory comments to her afterwards. She had told herself then that never, ever again would she give any man any reason to believe that she was encouraging him to think of her as sexually available.
She looked away from Matt now, her heart hammering with a mixture of fear and awareness.
She had seen the curiosity in his eyes, the thoughtfulness...the way he watched her wary, slightly uncoordinated movements, her tension as she hurried past the group of watching men.
By the time they reached the Land Rover her nervousness had increased. Not caring how inelegant she might look, she scrambled up into the passenger seat and sat tensely there as Matt climbed much more easily in beside her.
They were halfway back to the office when Matt said quietly, ‘If any of the male members of the company are guilty of harassing female staff I should like to know about it. Not only because I disapprove on principle of men subjecting women to embarrassing and sometimes intimidating overtures they don’t want, but also because there could be a very real threat of us losing business through such an attitude.’
Nicola bit her lip and gripped her hands together, shaking her head, knowing that, apart from the foreman, all the other men, while sometimes teasing the female employees, were not aggressive or unpleasant in their manner, and she certainly could not imply that they were just to save herself embarrassment.
‘They...the men are all very pleasant,’ she told him huskily.
There was a small pause, and then he enquired drily, ‘Does that include Jackson?’
When she turned her head he was looking at her, a searching, intense look, which, if the past hadn’t lain so painfully on her conscience, would have made her feel that there was nothing, no matter how personal, which she could not confide to him. A feeling of deep and intense sadness rolled through her, like grey clouds obscuring the sun, sending her spirits plummeting downwards.
‘Ian isn’t one of my favourite people,’ she agreed, adding quickly, ‘but the other men—’
Matt didn’t allow her to finish.
‘That kind of attitude from one man, especially one in the position which he holds, can all too easily influence the others, and I won’t have it. As I said, it could affect us adversely where business is concerned. More and more women these days are making the decisions about extensions and so on to their homes, more and more women are single parents. When they have building work done they don’t want to have to deal with someone like Jackson and, let’s face it, when he and the men are on site they are virtually the only representatives of the company that our customers see.’
‘The men respect him,’ Nicola pointed out. ‘He won’t be easy to replace.’
‘Not locally, perhaps, but I could always put someone in charge temporarily transferring them from one of my other concerns. However, it needn’t come to that—if he alters his attitude...’
Privately Nicola suspected that the foreman would do no such thing. He was an arrogant man, used to dominating those around him, a man who depended on his swaggering, macho image. She sighed a little, mentally contrasting him with Matt, who was so very, very male, but in a totally different way. And yet that first time they had met...
Her forehead crinkled with confusion. Then he had seemed very much in the same macho mould as the foreman; then he had treated her with a careless disregard which, no matter how well-deserved, had left her sick with self-disgust. It was very hard to reconcile that man with the one seated next to her now.
Eight years is a long time, she re
minded herself, and in those eight years social values had changed so much that it was perhaps only natural that human perceptions and reactions should change with them.
It surprised her how much she was enjoying working with Matt, but she was still haunted by the fear that something might happen and that he might look at her and realise...recognise her...and that then everything she had worked for—all the time and effort she had put into ensuring that never, ever again would she suffer the humiliation and trauma she had suffered when she’d woken up that morning in his bed—would be destroyed.
When he stopped the Land Rover in the yard he said easily, but very firmly, ‘Stay there.’
Weakly Nicola did so, trembling a little as he came round to her side of the vehicle, opened the door, and reached in to help her out. She couldn’t help flinching a little when he touched her. Just for a moment he tensed as though he had felt her physical reaction to him, but then he was helping her calmly and clinically from the Land Rover, quickly removing his hands from her waist once her feet could touch the ground.
‘I understand that you have a steady boyfriend.’
The comment seemed to ricochet around inside her. Who on earth had told him about Gordon? And why? she wondered feverishly while she responded with a jerky, ‘Er—yes...’
He gave her a sombre look that somehow seemed to hold a touch of loneliness, and then, astoundingly, told her flatly, ‘He’s a very fortunate man.’
As he turned on his heel and walked towards the office entrance, Nicola was left staring after him, feeling as though the ground was actually rocking precariously beneath her.
Had he really been trying to imply that he envied Gordon? Impossible, surely. If he wanted a woman in his life, there couldn’t possibly be any shortage of candidates to fill that role.
To imply that he wanted her...
A tiny cold shiver of fear touched her spine. What if it was all just a game? What if he was just playing with her, cruelly letting her believe that he didn’t remember her, when in fact...? She gave another shiver, a deeper one this time. No. She was letting her fear get out of control. Why on earth would he want to behave in such a way? But to suggest that he found her attractive...that he envied Gordon...
Over the years there had been men who had wanted to get to know her better, but she had always frozen them off, afraid of the problems that intimacy with them might bring. With Gordon she was safe. Neither of them wanted anything more from their relationship than they already had. Gordon’s life was dominated by his mother, a domination which, Nicola suspected, had resulted in an almost complete repression of his sexuality, while her life was dominated by her guilt and anguish over the past, which just as effectively repressed hers. If she allowed herself to fall in love with a man, eventually there would come a time when she would have to tell him about her past... to explain...because she was the type of woman who would want to be open and honest with someone she loved, but in doing so she would have to run the risk of them turning from her with the same contempt and disgust Jonathon had exhibited, and that was something she knew she could not endure. Better not to take the risk in the first place.
It terrified her to acknowledge that Matthew was a man whom she could quite easily have fallen in love with if the past hadn’t stood between them. And what terrified her even more was the extent of her physical awareness of him.
All those years ago all her awareness, her attention, her emotions had been focused on Jonathon, but now she was wondering sickly if, beneath those emotions, some part of her had responded to Matt on a far deeper and more hidden level so that, even if she was not aware of it, she had been attracted to him...had been responsive to him...
Very slowly she followed him into the offices, telling herself that, once the new manager was installed and Matt was an infrequent visitor, she would be able to regain control of her life and her emotions, and in the meantime she would have to learn to live with the turbulence of what she was feeling.
* * *
ON FRIDAY she left home a little earlier than usual so that she could drop her car off at the garage.
One of the mechanics then drove her to work, giving her slender figure an admiring glance as she sat beside him.
Repressing an urge to tug down the skirt of her suit, Nicola feigned interest in something in the street outside the car, thankful when the mechanic finally took the hint and concentrated on driving the car rather than on trying to make conversation with her.
Evie arrived ten minutes after Nicola, the eye-catching brilliance of her outfit making Nicola blink a little and grin at her as she came rushing in.
Everyone bar Alan had been warned about the lunchtime gathering. Matt had undertaken to get Alan there on time, and Nicola had no doubt that he would do so.
While she was going through the post, three of the men came in to dismantle Alan’s desk.
Matt had asked why Alan wasn’t taking it with him, commenting on its age and value, and Nicola had explained the situation.
‘Well, it’s his decision, but it’s one he could regret later. I think what we’ll do is have it dismantled and put in storage just in case he does change his mind.’
His decision was so close to the one she had privately already made that Nicola found herself trembling a little with the shock of the emotion that ran through her. She already knew that the new manager was going to be supplied with an equally new office, plus some very sophisticated computer equipment, which she herself was going to have to learn to use. Matt’s confidence in her ability to do so had certainly been morale-boosting, if a little unnerving.
At eleven o’clock, once the more urgent enquiries had been dealt with, Nicola told Evie, ‘I’m just going to slip over to the store, to see if everything’s under control.’
‘What time are the caterers due?’ Evie asked her.
‘Half-past eleven.’
If had been Matt who had suggested bringing in outside caterers, adding casually that of course he would pay for the food and the drink they would need.
She had obtained several sample menus at modest prices, and had been even more surprised when Matt had announced that what he had in mind was something a little bit more substantial and enticing.
The caterers arrived exactly on time, unloading their van with very professional speed and assurance.
Large trestle-tables had been set up in the storage bay, which had been cleaned out especially for the occasion. It was a warm day, and motes of dust from the timber which had been stored there hung on the air, turning gold in the sunshine, the clean smell of timber sharp and pungent.
The caterers all wore uniforms, the girls in blue and white striped summer dresses with butchers’ aprons over the tops, the men in navy trousers and blue and white striped shirts.
Matt had wanted to keep the affair as informal as possible, and so the long trestle-tables had been set up against the walls of the building with just one small table on a makeshift raised dais from which Matt would give his speech and present Alan with their gift.
As she looked round, watching the ordered busyness of the caterers, Nicola wondered how Alan would feel. This would be a very traumatic day for him—the final severing of his connection with the company he had worked so hard to build up, the final realisation, perhaps, that his son was dead.
She walked to the door of the shed and stood by it, her head bowed, emotional tears stinging her eyes as she dwelt on Alan’s pain.
‘Nicola...are you all right?’
She hadn’t seen Matt approach, hadn’t even realised he was here, and now, shocked by the unexpected sound of his voice, she lifted her head jerkily and found that he was within a couple of feet of her, his forehead creased with concern as he came towards her.
He was dressed casually in worn jeans and a denim shirt, which was rolled back to reveal his forearms.
A pang of unexpected sensation tore through Nicola, destroying her frail self-control and, shockingly, she was almost instantly transported bac
k into the past, to the memory of the way he had leaned over her that morning, his body smelling of soap and cologne, his—
‘Nicola?’
She trembled as she fought off the unwanted memory, not realising it was the sight of the tears in her eyes that were provoking his harshness until he demanded, ‘You’re crying. Has someone...?’
Crying... She focused on him and then shook her head, explaining huskily, ‘No, there’s nothing wrong. I was just thinking of Alan—of how he must feel today. Where is he?’ she added anxiously. ‘It isn’t twelve yet, and—’
‘I know. I’ve left him over at the Waddington site. I made the excuse that I had an appointment I had to get back for, and told him I’d collect him later. I’m just on my way home to get changed, but I thought I’d better call in here and check that you weren’t having any problems.’
Originally Matt had been staying in the town’s one hotel, but now he had rented a property several miles away.
‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ he asked her quietly.
One of the caterers came towards the door, and instinctively Nicola moved out of her way. Matt moved with her, so that disconcertingly they were both standing in the shadows, the pool of darkness casting a circle of intimacy around them. He had put his arm out to guide her to one side as the girl had come past, and now his hand was resting on the wall behind her, reinforcing the atmosphere of intimacy.
‘Yes, yes. I’m fine...’
Was she trembling outwardly as much as she was inside and, if so, was he aware of it? She felt dizzy, confused, unable to move or think, and far too intensely aware of him. She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, and instead stared straight ahead of her. Which was a mistake. Her eyes seemed to be on a level with the bare column of his throat. His skin was tanned and smooth. She wanted, she realised with horror, to reach out and touch it...to touch him! She swallowed quickly, wishing her head would stop pounding so fast. She could see Matt’s chest falling and lifting with his breathing.
Once she had leaned against that chest, once those hands had circled her body, had touched and caressed it, had known it so intimately that—